Anything But That
by lilkyonkyon
Summary: Draco's planning something big. Something daring. Something that will require a lot of alcohol. Post-Hogwarts, ignores epilogue. DM/HG, BZ/GW. Oneshot. ::Overheard in Hogwarts Challenge::


I made this challenge myself a long time ago, and then I couldn't resist taking it myself. This is what resulted. Spoiler alert: it was crazy.

* * *

**Anything But That**

"Why do you smell like alcohol?"

Draco glanced up from his glass of wine and grimaced. "Because it's Tuesday."

"Oh." Blaise blinked. A moment later, he remembered the plan. "_Oh_. Oh _shit_."

"Yeah, that's about right." Draco took the last gulp of his wine and signalled the waitress as Blaise sat across from him. "What took you so long to get here?"

"Held up at work. We were meeting in the conference room, but there was still blood in there from the last meeting. Of course, they made _me_ clean it up." He paused in his story as the waitress took their drink orders. Blaise noticed that Draco had graduated from wine to hard liquor, but he was polite enough to overlook it. "Anyways, just because Riddell can't do something I tell him, _I_ become the bad guy."

"You mean you're actually a decent bloke? Could've fooled me."

Blaise frowned at him. "Don't take this out on me, Draco. It was your bloody idea to do this in the first place. And why did you need me here?"

Draco announced, as if he were announcing the weather outside, "I have a moral dilemma."

"Does it involve alcohol?" Blaise asked plainly, eyeing the three empty beer bottles and the freshly-finished wine glass.

"No."

"Does it require alcohol? Is that why you invited me?"

"In a way. You're going to help me. You're coming with me to the party."

The man pouted. "Why do I have to go?"

"You need to distract the mindless oafs she calls friends," Draco supplied, shrugging. "Where's that waitress? I'm tired and I need a martini."

"Wait, you want _me_ to distract them? But it's my birthday!"

"Your birthday was two weeks ago, Blaise."

"I don't care! I'm not going! You should make them drink their way to tolerance!"

"Tried it already, a month ago yesterday. I woke up in a gutter with a black eye, a broken nose and two loose teeth."

"Ouch," Blaise said with a wince. "Well, then there's only one option . . . suicide. Good luck!" He started to get up.

"No you don't!" Draco shot back, snatching the other man's wrist and jerking him back into his seat. "You're coming with me, and you're going to keep them busy, or so help me, I'll tell Weasley about your little fling with his sister."

Blaise gasped, affronted. "I did no such thing! I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Please," the blond said as he rolled his eyes. "You know I saw you two scamper off. It was just over a month ago, when we had that fundraiser —"

"Look, I said you're wrong. You're wrong and you're ugly!"

Draco scowled. "We're not friends for ten minutes."

"Great! Can I go?"

"You think I'm kidding, don't you? I'm going to tell Weasley and Potter about you and that girl, and then they're gonna get you. They're gonna come in the night while you sleep. You don't want that, do you?"

For a moment, Blaise was silent, anger glinting in his narrowed eyes. Finally, he held his hands up in surrender. "You win, Draco. I'll help you out as long as you take that secret to the grave."

"Agreed." The waitress finally came with their drinks, and Draco swallowed his martini in two gulps. "Merlin," he groaned, "sometimes I wish I were gay."

Blaise started to laugh, but then he paused. "…You were kidding, right?"

Draco gave him a look as he signalled for the check. "I know we've been friends for a few years now, but occasionally, I just want to hex you back to Salem."

Blaise smiled cheekily and finished the dregs of his butterbeer. "I'll pay," he added when the check appeared on the table. Then he did a double-take. "What is this, the last census? How long have you been here?" He then realized that Draco had unsuccessfully tried to stand up three times now. With an exasperated groan, Blaise plopped down a handful of galleons and managed to get a hold of his friend's elbow on the fourth attempt. "Woah, mate, don't hurt yourself. Can you stand on your own?"

"No," Draco said plainly. Blaise couldn't help but smirk, and the blond retorted, "Oh, and you're so perfect?"

"Well, I suppose not." Cautiously, he escorted Draco outside of the bar. It was lightly raining, so he cast a simple charm to keep them both dry. "Now where are we going?"

"We're going to the dark side!" Draco said, his words mushing together.

Blaise sighed. "No, I mean, where's Granger's house?"

"Oh. It's right down the street." He started on his own, but lurched awkwardly, and Blaise once again had to catch him.

"Let me do the walking, alright?"

"No, I can do it," the blond insisted, fighting Blaise's hands away clumsily.

"Well, you can walk with me, or you can just lay down and die."

Finally, after a few nasty falls, Draco allowed Blaise to hook his arm around his own and guide him down the street, complaining about the loose pavement slabs. "I thought muggles could at least keep the ground from moving about so," he grumbled more than once.

Blaise guided his friend to the front stoop and knocked with one hand while he supported Draco with the other. It seemed as if most of the guests were already there, as he heard laughter and talking from inside. Finally, the knob twisted and Hermione opened the door. Blaise, admittedly, was taken aback. He hadn't seen her since school ended eight years ago, and here she was, smiling brilliantly and ushering them inside as if they were just the two she was waiting to see. He couldn't really blame Draco for concocting this stupid plan.

Speaking of which, the Blond Wonder was still having trouble standing up straight.

"Are you feeling alright, Draco?" she asked him.

"Never better." He was currently clinging to the wall. "Happy birthday."

Hermione smiled again, though she still seemed a bit uneasy. "Er, thank you. Come in and make yourselves at home. Everyone's in the living room. We'll be eating soon." When she left, Blaise shifted his arm so that Draco could lean on him. "Come on, mate. No falling asleep."

"Oh, you and your rules."

"Let's get you in a chair." Blaise managed to heft him off the wall and guide him to the living room, where he allowed Draco to all but collapse in a pillowy recliner. "Now how about something to drink?" The blond was glaring at him, but he didn't wait for an answer before he rushed towards the refreshment table to escape him.

Potter and Weasley were there.

"Er, hello Potter, Weasley," Blaise said, using his friendliest manners. "I was just going to have some punch . . . ." Delicately, he tried to edge past, but neither budged. The redhead stoically took another gulp of juice. "Sorry, er, could I just get through . . . ."

There was a sudden smacking noise, and Weasley nearly toppled over. "Ron! Move your bloody arse out of the way!" The path cleared for Blaise, and there stood Ginny Weasley in all her furious glory. "You're such a prat!"

"Oy, what's your problem?"

"It's _you_! And as for you, Harry"— she rounded on him, and he looked ready to run —"you shouldn't encourage him! Hermione invited Blaise into her home, and the least you can do is show him some respect!"

"Sorry, Ginny, honest. He just —"

"He did nothing! I saw!"

As the three argued more, Blaise quickly filled a cup with punch and scurried back to relative safety. Malfoy was reclining on the chair, his eyes half-closed. Blaise cleared his throat to rouse him, then he pushed the punch in the blond's hand.

"Thanks." He gulped down the drink in two long pulls. He shoved the empty cup back towards Blaise and said, "So you'll keep the two goon's busy? How're they treating you?"

"Great. So far, I've experienced coldness and evil, and they haven't even spoken to me yet." He then leaned closer, softening his voice. "And Ginny's here, as well." Draco grimaced in reply, and Blaise sighed as he added, "Thank you for understanding why that's important."

They glanced over to find Weasley and Potter fleeing from the punch table. Only Ginny remained, hands on her hips, looking the very definition of livid. Her eyes suddenly turned and locked with Blaise's. He gulped.

"I, er, think she wants to talk to me," he murmured in what he hoped was a light-hearted tone.

He could've sworn that he heard Draco humming a funeral march as he walked away. What he didn't notice was that Hermione Granger had entered the room. Draco paused in his song, and when he saw her exit up the stairs, he followed as swiftly as his inebriation would allow.

"Hullo, Ginny," Blaise gulped as edged in next to her. "Pleasant party, right?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Where have you been the past month? I've been trying to contact you!"

"Well, I —"

"You weren't ignoring my owls, were you?"

"N-no! That's a horrible thing to say . . . ." She narrowed her eyes. "But you're right," he quickly amended, correctly assuming that she would yell at him regardless of the truth.

"You're such a bloody prat!"

"Ah, ah, it only seems that way. That's because my heart is filled with hate and yours is filled with kittens. You wouldn't understand." He crossed his arms. "What's this all about anyways, though? You didn't decide to bite my head off for no reason, did you?"

Again, a glare.

"Or you did. That's fine as well, I just —"

"I'm pregnant, you bastard," she hissed at him.

"Ah, there's the truth. Congratulations!" Blaise said. "Who's the unlucky bloke?"

She only continued scowling at him.

"Er . . . is it Potter's?" he guessed lamely.

"It's yours, you slimy arse!" She paused for a moment, fuming, but then relaxed into a state of depression, adding sadly, "I don't mean slimy in a bad way."

He felt slightly numb, and he was sure it was shock. That meant his sarcasm had slipped into automatic. "Just arse?" he said, wincing even as the words left his mouth.

"It's the hormones," Ginny continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Oh, I don't know what to do! I haven't been able to tell my family. Only Hermione knows about this." She turned to him, her eyes brimming with tears. "You'll help me, won't you?"

Only one thought ran through his mind: _Shit_.

Upstairs, Draco was having a slightly better time. He'd convinced Hermione to give him a tour of her house, and even though he was outrageously pissed, she didn't seem to notice the difference. He was still deciding whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Welcome to the library, where your wildest dreams come true!"

The walls were lined with some of the most boring books Draco had ever seen in his entire life. All the covers were the same dusty leather that thrived in their own family library, but without the benefit of being antiquated. There were even some stuffy books about law that Lucius himself wouldn't keep. But, to save face, Draco did what he does best: lie.

"I believe this is finer than our library at the manor," he allowed her casually. "I mean, Father hardly ever reads, so it's no surprise. Mother reads on occasion, but it's usually those _harlequin romance novels_ or some such nonsense." He'd thought that he was being conversational, but when he turned to face her, she was simply laughing.

"You don't have to lie so much, Malfoy. I don't care if you don't like books."

"What? No I haven't. It was just the one! _One lie_!"

"Oh? Which one?" He had the vague impression that she was toying with him, but his state didn't allow him to care.

"I don't think it's finer than our library, but that's only because our library is where Father keeps the liquor."

She laughed outright at that, then extended her hand for his. He stared at it for a moment, utterly shocked, before he took it in his own. "Shall we rejoin the party?" Hermione prompted him. "Blaise is still downstairs."

"Oh, right."

Back in the living room, Blaise finally broke out of a hug with Ginny. She was still snivelling, but otherwise her strength was returning. "I _will_ help you with the baby," he told her, serious for a change.

"Do you think we can manage?" she asked him, fingers tightening painfully on his shoulder.

Blaise grimaced. He wondered if she subconsciously wanted to draw blood, or if she was just that clingy. "Well, think of it this way: If you didn't have me, you'd be a nun."

"That's not funny." And, all of a sudden, the angry Ginny was back. If it hadn't involved him so closely, Blaise would have been amazed at the drastic transformation mere hormones could produce. "I need some shit. And who's going to buy me some shit? You."

"Er, what kind of shit?"

"Anything I want." With that, she grinned evilly and stepped away, leaving the ex-Slytherin anxious about their next meeting. He made a note to check his books when he got back home. As he was about to return to his friend, he collided with something solid.

Something solid, encased in a horrendous sweater.

Gulping, he glanced up and met the face of one Ron Weasley. "What did you do to my sister?" the man barked.

"Nothing! What gave you any idea I did anything? Because I did nothing!"

"Don't lie, Zabini, I saw you!"

"You _what_?" He tried not to feel dirty, but he couldn't help it. "It must've been someone else —"

"If you think you have the _right_ to touch my sister —"

Potter burst into the conversation then like a knight, holding Weasley's arm back even as the man tried to barrel forward. "Ron, he just hugged her! It's fine! You don't want Ginny back here!"

And the truth set Blaise free. The redhead had only seen the hug. Too relieved to express himself in any other way, Blaise laughed and clapped a hand on Weasley's shoulder. "Mate, you and I were having two totally different conversations." Then, before the other man had time to think it over, Blaise all but ran back to Draco's armchair.

Only the blond wasn't there.

"Oh bullocks."

As if on cue, a woman shouted. Blaise instinctively hurried to the source, bursting through the kitchen door unannounced.

"It's bloody hot in here," Draco grumbled, fanning himself as he kicked up his heels on the kitchen table. Blaise had to stifle a laugh by clapping a hand over his mouth. The drunk was currently pantsless, his belt and slacks tossed carelessly over a chair. A woman — a muggle relative, Blaise figured, and probably the one that had screamed — shooed her two children out of the room and began to scold the blond.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! There are children present!"

"What are you going on about, madam?" Draco simultaneously droned and slurred. "I'm sure your children have seen boxers before. It's a muggle contraption, for Merlin's sake."

"Why you conceited, _arrogant_ —"

"Ah ah, it's only arrogance if you're wrong."

Fortunately Blaise stepped between the feuding pair before the confrontation could escalate. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but my friend's a little inebriated right now." He glanced backwards, then added, "It's that, or his mom didn't love him enough."

The woman raised her eyebrow, unamused.

"I, well, I'll get him out of the way. He needs to get home, in any case." Babbling still, Blaise hoisted Draco and shuffled him into the nearest empty room, ignoring Draco's drunken protests.

"Where's Hermione?" he demanded of Blaise when he was finally seated.

"I dunno, mate. It's her bloody party, she's probably busy."

"Well, go get her!"

"No. This is not Burger King. You cannot have it your way."

The reference was lost on Draco, but not the meaning, and he fell into a petulant silence. Fortunately for him, Hermione chose to show up on her own accord. She took in the sight of the pair with wide eyes. "Oh, sorry —" she said immediately, trying to back out of the room.

"No, wait!" Draco called. She hesitated, and he seized the opportunity to say, "I have a question for you."

Blaise saw what was coming. Draco's eyes said it all. "No you don't," he hissed through his teeth.

"Yes I do!" Draco protested.

"Er . . . ." said the girl, backing away.

"Come here, Hermione," the blond pressed. She didn't resist this time, though she looked like she wanted to. The third-wheel, alarmed, fled from the room and shut the door behind him, hoping with all his might that he was wrong.

The brunette watched him escape with a raised eyebrow, then turned back to her intoxicated party guest. "What do you —"

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

She stared.

And blinked.

And stared some more. Draco felt more and more uncomfortable. "Er . . . say something."

She seemed to finally find her voice, and exclaimed, "Oh my God, I thought you were gay!"

"What?"

"Well — I mean — you don't date, and then you came here with Blaise! You two were whispering the whole night, and he was holding you, and then I found you in here with him, pants-less —"

"_What_?" She was startled into silence. Draco inwardly berated himself for shouting, but continued, "Look, I'm not a pouf. You didn't answer my question."

"Well, I . . . this is a surprise! And I wasn't expecting you —"

"It's a simple one," he pressed, clinging to the last bits of hope. "Yes or no?"

"Draco, I-I can't! I just don't — Draco?" He'd stopped listening after she said 'can't', as the alcohol had chosen right then to catch up. His head tipped back into the chair and he began to snore loudly.

* * *

Even his hair hurt that morning. Blaise's attitude certainly didn't help. He'd been too . . . chipper for Draco. But the man had brought a strong cup of coffee, so he was forgiven.

"Merlin, I'm tired," Draco told his friend with a sigh.

Blaise nodded sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to punch you in the head or something?"

He glared at him, then took a soothing sip of coffee. "Just tell me what happened last night."

"Oh." Blaise gulped. He hoped he wouldn't have to do this. "Er, well, we went to the party."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I gathered that much on my own. What happened _at_ the party?"

For the life of him, he didn't know how to look. "Well —"

"Wait," Draco interrupted, his eyes widening in shock. "Did . . . did Longbottom die?"

The other man blinked. "Erm, no. He wasn't even there."

"Oh . . . I must have had that dream again. Explains the tea cozy." Blaise raised an eyebrow, but Draco ignored him. "What happened, then? Out with it."

"Well . . . we chatted with everyone, er, had a few more drinks . . . you took off your pants . . ." he added in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"I _what_?" Draco interrupted, causing Blaise to wince.

"Er, you took off your pants."

"_Really_? Huh. Well, I must have been drunk when I did that."

"That's the understatement of the year," Blaise mumbled to himself.

"Oh, come off it. I wasn't thaaat drunk."

"You passed out in the middle of your proposal!" he burst. And then he clapped a hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, it was too late to stop Draco from hearing.

"I proposed?" he sputtered. "You let me propose drunk? And I _passed out_?"

"Draco, mate, I think you're overreacting —"

"No! I think I'm reacting just enough! I proposed to _Hermione Granger_ while I was bloody _pissed_! And while my _pants were off_!" And then the memories of that night came flooding back to him. "Merlin and Agrippa!" he swore. "She told me she thought I was a pouf."

"Really?" Blaise was now half-shocked, half-laughing.

"I . . . I just . . . melted. I melted." The blond whirled on his friend. "Why did you let me alone?"

"Look, mate, I had my own problems that night. Ginny told me she's pregnant." Blaise couldn't tell whether Draco's retching was real or a joke. "I had to dodge her and her brother the entire night."

"That's bullocks," the blond muttered, cradling his head. Then, he said, "I really wish that she would've said yes. I could've gotten used to that."

Blaise watched his friend for a moment. He'd thought a little while ago that this whole Granger obsession was just a passing fancy, but even hung-over Draco was having a problem letting go. Setting his jaw, he said, "Right, well, you could've told me how bad it's gotten."

"I already told you that I'd Avada Kedavra myself if I thought I could stand the light."

"Not the hang-over, mate, this Granger business."

Draco managed to move his head just enough to glare at his friend. "You're a complete arse."

"That's not important right now. Let me see if I can set up another meeting soon, alright? I think everything'll work out just fine."

"I don't think it will."

Blaise huffed as he crossed his arms. "Fine, if you're so nervous, I'll be your guide. From now on, you will obey me!"

"That's rich. This coming from the man that impregnated the she-Weasel. Am I supposed to get Granger pregnant, then?" Blaise seemed to consider for a moment. Draco was aghast. "I'm _not_ going to get her up the duff just to force her to marry me!"

"It would probably work!" his mate retorted just as vehemently. Then he smiled. "Fine, don't bother so much about that. Just practice your approach on me." He paused. "And it wouldn't be camp because we wouldn't tell anyone!"

Draco's look could only be described as murderous.

* * *

Blaise was sitting before the fireplace, sweating his arse off. Really, of all the wizarding tricks in all the world, the bloody inventors couldn't think of a better way to talk to someone than the floo network. Never mind it was the middle of the bloody summer.

"Blaise?"

"Shit!" he hadn't been paying attention, and he accidentally doused himself with the water he'd been drinking at the sound of Ginny's voice. Well, at least it was cooler now.

"Sorry, sorry!" she fussed. "You said you wanted to talk, so I —"

"No, I do! I do want to talk!" He mopped up the water as best as he could. "I was going to ask you for . . . well, for a favour."

She regarded him suspiciously. "A sexual favour?"

"No! Well . . . maybe later . . . but no, this is for Draco. The bloke's in love with Granger."

"Well, duh. Everyone knows that." Then Ginny glared at him. "What kind of a friend are you for not even noticing?"

"Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?" he retorted. "Let's talk about you and your irrational pregnancy!"

"You bastard!" she hissed. He half-expected her to start climbing through the fire to strangle him.

"Ginny, I was joshing! Honest!"

"Just tell me the plan so I can go! I need some pineapple before I start tearing heads clean off."

The gruesome image made Blaise shudder, even in the heat. "Right, I just want to get them together in a non-threatening environment. I was thinking us, Granger, and those two mates of hers."

"Harry and Ron, you mean? We can do that," she said thoughtfully. "But honestly, I could do without Malfoy."

Blaise blinked. "Er, but, that's the whole point."

"Fine, okay, we can invite him too, but you have to remind him that pants are a requirement, not a mild suggestion." Ginny's voice was oddly serious.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "So he made a mistake!"

"He's a pedophile!"

"It was a big mistake!" he burst. In a more subdued tone, he amended, "I'll make sure he keeps his pants on this time, alright? Just for you."

"Then it's a date!" she said a bit too brightly, but Blaise was afraid of making her cry so he didn't bother mentioning that it wasn't really a date at all. "Oh, and by the way, the family found out. About everything."

She left the floo before he could ask whether or not he should bring a body guard.

* * *

"Mrs. Weasley can be a little . . . overbearing," Draco warned as they stepped up on the stoop. "If she asks you to sit, you sit. If she asks you to help her set the table, you do it with a smile on your face. And if she asks you to pet the dog, for the love of God, you pet the dog."

"Know this from experience?" Blaise asked dryly, knocking soundly on the door. Ginny opened it almost as soon as he had finished, a small setter at her heels.

"Good. You're here. Ron and Harry will meet us there, but Hermione and I are almost ready. Come on in for a spot of tea." They stepped inside and wordlessly wiped their feet on the mat, glancing around. It was late afternoon, and the six of them were to go out for a snack and some recreational activity chosen during said-snack. They followed Ginny into the kitchen.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley." The last twin was seated at the table, in addition to a scrawny, specky boy with the tell-tale flaming red hair. They both grumbled an acknowledgement, but Mrs. Weasley was much kinder. "Sit and have a bite," she insisted, loading their plates with a bit of everything. She then glanced at her youngest. "Ginny, dear, are you feeling well? You look a bit tired."

"No, mum. I'm in a good mood. I'm always in a good mood. I'm just ugly."

The two brothers, who were used to these mood swings, groaned aloud. "Come off it," the twin mumbled.

"You take that back, George!" Ginny suddenly shouted, brandishing a plate.

He shielded himself with his arms, crying, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh yes I would! I can break whatever I want, because _I _fix it!"

The statement must've been true, because after that, the brothers made themselves scarce. Draco gave Blaise a sympathetic look. At least it wasn't too awkward now.

"Have you thought of any baby names?" Mrs. Weasley asked the Slytherin. "You know, I always thought that Richard would be nice."

Draco immediately retracted the thought. It had gotten quite a bit awkward. "Where's Hermione?" he asked quickly.

"She's almost ready," Ginny repeated boredly. She must have already gotten used to her mother's fawning. It only took another lengthy five minutes before Granger stumbled down the stairs, rifling through her purse.

"I've got everything; let's go."

They exited the house hastily, but the boys paused when they had no idea where they were going. "We _are_ apparating, right?" Blaise asked for confirmation.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Something about the way he said that made me want to hit him," she said to Hermione.

"Hey, I am standing right here, you know!" he protested.

"Just hang onto us. We'll get you there." Ginny extended her hand to Blaise, and he took it without hesitation before they both disappeared. Granger did the same to Draco, but he paused.

"Should I ask you where you're taking me?"

Hermione just winked.

His heart nearly fell out of his chest.

They appeared in the middle of a confrontation. Ron and Blaise had apparently just seen each other.

"Wait, let me —"

"You! _You_!" the redheaded man yelled. "I will kill your family!"

"Even your unborn nephew?" Blaise guffawed. He then shrieked and took off running, Ron hot on his trail.

Leaving Draco alone with Hermione, Potter, and the Weasley girl.

His palms were already sweating.

To make matters worse, Potter groaned, "Now we have to think about something to talk about." Ginny promptly smacked him over the head and hissed _be nice_ barely loud enough for Draco to hear. Then the redhead did something else unexpected.

"Oy, Harry, I need ice cream. _Now_."

It was so menacing, the boy wasted no time, running for the nearest store. Ginny ambled after him, shouting for her toppings.

Leaving, of course Draco and the love of his life properly alone. Well. That was fast. He hadn't even prepared anything to say. "Er, did you all decide what to do after tea?"

"No, not really." She wasn't really looking at him, so he imitated her. At once, she burst, "Why did you propose?"

Oh bugger.

Blaise, in the meantime, had been chased back to Ginny. "Help me!" he cried, latching around her waist like a koala to a tree. Ron stopped short when he saw the look on Ginny's face, then he abruptly decided to wait in line with Harry for ice cream.

"We'll see you boys back at the meeting spot," she called to them before she grabbed Blaise's hand with more force than necessary and dragged him behind her.

"Ow ow _owwww_," he whined. "Could you — would you just — loosen a bit . . . ."

"You are the biggest baby!" burst Ginny, throwing his hand aside.

He pouted. "Why must you hurt me when I've shown you nothing but love!"

"Merlin, you have _got_ to be kidding me." She looked at him with borderline affection as they walked along. "Hermione wanted to see a movie after tea. What do you think?"

"Aw, muggle movies are so overrated."

Ginny crossed her arms. "Last time you told me something was overrated I got pregnant."

He shot her a glare. "Fine." It was here that they all stepped into the middle of a discussion that they had no intention of hearing. Draco and Hermione had apparently touched on _the_ topic.

"Of course I said no! You _proposed_! We've only just become friends!"

"We're friends, we've been friends! We see each other every day!"

"Work doesn't count, Draco. I mean, this . . . this isn't a musical! We should, I dunno, go out or something first, don't you think?"

Draco blinked. "I . . . well, yes. That could work . . . ."

Blaise very nearly smacked himself in the forehead. What a dunce. Beside him, he heard Ginny snigger. As for the 'happy couple' before them, they were staring at each other like they had just discovered something brand new for wizard-kind, like a way to communicate that wasn't the floo.

"Well, then, before we begin, I'd like to get to know you first," Hermione said, feigning a business-like attitude. "Do you enjoy books?"

"Oh yes, they're very handy. My old potions book is propping up my end-table as we speak."

She laughed. "Oh, really? Then I imagine you like to travel."

"Indubitably. Locals are so _amusing_."

"And how do you feel about the rights of magical creatures?"

He sobered up immediately. "I'm wearing dragon-hide boots. Do I look like I give a shit about animal rights?"

"I have already learned to live with that," she said with a faint blush.

"And _I've_ learned," Blaise interrupted, "that if I have a little girl, I want her to either have the highest moral standards or be ugly as shit." He concluded his pronouncement with a nod.

Ginny full-out punched him.

And then everything was right in the world.

* * *

I had such a good time writing this one. Ginny's pregnancy hormones pretty much gave me freedom to have her do whatever I wanted, and let me tell you, it was pretty great. Did you enjoy? Please review!


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